Dragon Age: Desire
by TheJediSaint
Summary: Male Noble Warrior experiences the family life.


Dragon Age: Desire

"My Love, tis time for supper. Unless you wish your mutton stew to be cold, I would suggest that you conclude your little game." said Morrigan, standing at the doorway leading to Highever keep.

"My Lady!" said Michael, turning away from his sparing partner to speak to his wife. "This is not a game, but serious training, surely you would not wish to interrupt young Bryce's practice?"

But as Micheal's attention was diverted, his seven year old son took the opportunity to land a blow on his father's thigh, his wooden blade hitting with just enough force to hurt.

"Ow!" said Michael as he dropped his wooden sword and fell to the ground with an exaggerated look of pain on his face.

"Ha! I got you Father!" said Bryce as he proceeded to jump on top of Michael.

Michael put his hands up in mock surrender, "Only because your mother distracted me!". Michael could hear Morrigan scoff.

"Tis not my fault you're fool enough to turn your back to such a mighty boy as our son." said Morrigan in mock disapproval, her arms crossed over her chest as she looked down at Michael. The small smile on her face betrayed her amusement.

"Mother always said the best time to attack is when your enemy is not looking!" said Bryce in an excited tone.

"She would say that." said Michael as he stood up, scooping Bryce into his arms as he did so. The laughing boy wriggled as Michael threw him over his shoulder.

"Well, let us get some dinner then. I'm hungry." said Michael as he proceeded to walk towards Highever keep.

"Oh, no you don't! Not until you get yourselves cleaned up first." said Morrigan, blocking Michael's path.

Michael looked down at his clothing, noting the multiple spots of dirt and sweat that now decorated his pants and tunic.

"Couldn't we wait till after dinner my Love? Or do you disapprove of men getting a meal after a hard day's training?" said Michael.

"I disapprove of many things, Michael, particularly having a couple of brutes bringing dirt into my dining room. Now go! Get thy selves properly cleaned, or I'll turn the you both into toads!" said Morrigan.

Putting his son down, "Well you heard your Mother, Bryce. Getting ourselves turned into toads would put a hamper on the swordplay. We will do this again tomorrow. Now go give your Mother a hug for me before you go in."

"Yes, Father!" said Bryce before the skinny boy ran up to his mother.

"Wait, Bryce!" was all that Morrigan managed to say before the boy wrapped his arms around her legs, leaving spots of dirt and sweat on her silk dress. The boy quickly released his mother to run into the keep.

Michael giggled at the look on Morrigan's face as she examined the damage. She had taken to wearing Orleasian style dresses after she married Michael, as per the instructions of their mutual friend, Leliana. Now spots of dirt marred the dress' royal blue gown.

As Michael approached his wife, she gave him an annoyed look.

"Well it looks like your going to have to clean up before supper yourself." said Michael with a wide grin.

"Never has a woman been married to a more wretched man than you." Morrigan said melodramatically.

"But you still love me all the same." said Michael as he approached Morrigan to hug her himself.

Morrigan stopped him from getting closer by placing her delicate index finger on his sternum. "Tis true that I have looked past your many faults, but you shall not touch me until you are clean."

"Perhaps you could help me clean up?" said Michael in a suggestive tone.

Morrigan sighed in reaction to Michael's advance, "Not until you have washed and eaten your dinner! I swear you are more incorrigible than our son, and he is but seven!"

"Could I at least help you change out of your dress? I mean it's the least I could do since it was my fault it got dirty." said Michael with insincere guilt.

"Tis your fault, that is for certain, but I think I shall change my dress by myself. I shall see you at dinner, my Love." said Morrigan before kissing Michael lightly on the lips, then turning to walk into Highever Keep.

Michael admired Morrigan as she walked away, her dress was cut to be very complimentary to her figure.

When Morrigan was no longer in sight, Michael went back into the courtyard to recover the dropped wooden swords to left by him and his son. Returning them to their racks, and then proceeding into the keep himself.

Quickly washing off and changing into fresh cloths, Michael proceeded to the small family dinning room near the apartment he shared with Morrigan and Bryce.

Walking down the hallway, Michael was humming a jaunty tune to himself. Michael could not think of the last time he felt this good. The Blight was over seven years gone, Highever had been reclaimed, he had the hand of Morrigan, and together they were raising Bryce, the most wonderful lad a father could ask for.

Michael's train of happy thoughts were interrupted as he saw a mounted suit of armor up against one of the walls as he rounded the corner. Michael wouldn't have normally noticed the armor before, Castle Highever was littered with decorative suits of armor in seemingly every nook and cranny. But this armor was different because rather than the heraldry of the Couslands like one would expect, it bore a Gryphon on it's chest plate, the heraldry of the Grey Wardens.

It must have been one of Michael's, but he never recalled having it mounted. He thought all his Grey Warden gear was stored in the family vault, out of sight so as not to bring back all the bad memories that the Blight had carved into his mind. The death of most of his Family at the hands of Arl Howe, Loghain's betrayal at Ostagar, and that final terrible battle against the Archdemon itself. A battle he likely would not have survived if not for the intervention of Morrigan.

The memory of the last night before the battle was one of the few happy ones he had from that time. Michael remembered how Morrigan walked into his room to tell him of a ritual that would save him from the Archdemon's taint. How she could save him and the only price would be to give her a son, Bryce being the result.

Michael continued to study the armor for a moment, he felt that there was something wrong with the way he remembered that last night before the Battle of Denerim, some small but crucial detail that eluded his attempt to remember it.

"Ah, well." said Michael dismissively, he made a mental note to have someone take down the Grey Warden armor and put it in the vault were it belonged.

Michael continued on his way to the dinning room, trying to remember what he was forgetting about. Such was his concentration that he seemed to have made a wrong turn, as he found himself in the main hall rather than the family dinning room.

"Huh? Can't remember the last time I got lost in my own home." said Michael as he looked around the hall. Just as he was about to leave and retrace his steps, Michael's eye caught the large painting that dominated the room.

On the painting, an armored figure drove a blade into the head of an immense dragon. Michael knew the scene well, for it depicted his defeat of the Archdemon.

"How did that get there?" Michael said as he approached the painting. Michael recognized the painting, it was an exceedingly high quality example of many that were commissioned in the years after the end of the Fifth Blight. But Michael could not remember ever buying the painting that was now hanging before him.

That was rather vexing for Michael; he was sure he would have remembered such a piece, particularly because it appeared to be so accurate. Along with Michael, driving a scavenged sword into the Archdemon's skull, the painting depicted Alistair holding off a group of Hurlocks, and Wynne casting a spell to aid her allies. Morrigan should also be there too, as Michael remembered having her at his side during the final battle, but try as he may, he could not see the raven-haired mage anywhere. After several minutes, Michael gave up his search without success. He assumed that the painting must not be as accurate as it first appeared.

"Well, now I'm late for dinner because I was staring at a picture. I bet Morrigan would find that amusing." said Michael, mentally kicking himself for getting sidetracked.

Michael left the main hall, careful not to get lost again, he soon found the family dinning room.

Morrigan and Bryce were seated at the round dinning table. Both had started eating by the time that Michael entered.

"What took you so long? Tis rude to keep your wife and son waiting." said Morrigan in a mildly admonishing tone.

"My apologies, I seemed to have made a wrong turn. Big castle you know?" said Michael in an embarrassed tone.

"You got lost walking to dinner, in a castle you have spent most of your life in? Did you perchance bash your head at some point today?" said Morrigan

"Not as I recall my dear, simply too much on my mind, I believe." said Michael.

"Or too little as may be the case." said Morrigan before making a frustrated sigh. "Well sit down and eat, your food should still be warm."

Michael sat down and began eating his stew. It was indeed still warm, and quite tasty. Morrigan had always been a good cook; the mutton in the stew had been cooked exactly right.

Michael could hear his son slurping up the last remains of his meal. Michael looked up and smiled at the boy. He looked very much like the boyhood portraits of Michael's father. It was good that his son seemed to be growing up to be so much like his namesake.

Michael loved his son dearly, it seemed to him that a minute didn't go by that he didn't think about how much he loved his son. He loved Bryce just as much now, with his face buried in his bowl like a Marbari, as the day he was born.

When Michael attempted to remember his son's birth, however, a sudden shock caused him to sit up, dropping his spoon onto the floor in the process. To Michael's horror, he couldn't remember the day his son was born. Try as he might, he just couldn't remember it.

"What's wrong, My Love? Is there a reason you decided to stain my carpet with your spoon?" said Morrigan.

"I'm sorry, Morrigan. I just realized I can't remember the day that Bryce was born."

"Well I'm not surprised, you were in Amaranthine when Bryce was born, remember? "

"Ah yes, I was Warden-Commader then. Had to rebuild the order there, right in the midst of a darkspawn civil war. I guess the stress of that time still gets to me." said Michael as he picked up his dropped spoon. It was a silly thing to forget, being in Amaranthine when his son was born. Clearly Morrigan was the one who named Bryce, then.

Michael felt a sudden bout of curiosity. Looking up to his wife, his beloved dark maiden. "Morrigan, why did you name our son after my father?".

Morrigan looked surprised by the question. "Tis the name you always wanted for your son, is it not?"

Always wanted… Those words triggered an alarm somewhere in Michael's head, and then something occurred to Michael. "How did you know that was the name I wanted for my son?" he said, dread welling up in him.

"Because you told me." said Morrigan, her voice starting to sound irritated. "Now why are you asking such silly questions."

"I never told you." Michael said flatly.

"What?"

"I never told you!" said Michael in anger as the missing pieces in his mind started falling into place.

"Mother, what is wrong with father? He's scaring me!." Michael heard Bryce say.

"Michael, calm yourself, what has brought about this madness?' said Morrigan with growing concern.

"Remember the night before I slew the Archdemon, of the ritual?" Michael said, his voice suddenly flat.

"Of course, I knew that the Warden who slays the Archdemon dies, so I used a ritual taught to me by my mother to save you. In exchange, I asked only for a son to raise, our beloved Bryce." said Morrigan, who gave her son a comforting pat on the shoulder.

"You're missing one important detail Morrigan." said Mason, his voice taking on a slight growel as his anger grew.

"And what is that.? Morrigan said tersely, clearly starting to get angry herself."

"You left me immediately after the Archdemon was slain." said Michael.

"No I didn't, I stayed and married you right after the battle. King Alistair himself was at the wedding, much to his chagrin." said Morrigan.

"I don't remember any wedding. Nor do I remember seeing Bryce until just today." said Michael.

"Father, stop! I don't understand what you're saying!" said Bryce in distress. Michael could see the boy was now weeping.

Michael looked over to Bryce. His perfect little boy, everything Michael ever wanted in a son. That was how Michael knew he wasn't real.

"I'm so sorry Bryce." said Michael as warm tears rolled down his face. "I dearly want this to be real, for YOU to be real. I love you son, but I know you're not really there."

"You have gone mad! The taint in your blood has clearly corrupted your mind! How else can you doubt the existence of your own son?" said Morrigan in a raised voice as she stood up from her seat.

Michael got up from his seat as well, walking up to Morrigan. In his hand was a knife and it was not simply carving knife either, but a foot-long dagger. Michael was not sure were he got it, but he was sure were he was going to put it.

"What are you doing Michael?" said Morrigan as she saw the steel in Michaels hand, and then the steel in his eyes.

"I know none of this is real Morrigan. In fact, I know that you are not really Morrigan to begin with! The last time I saw Morrigan was when she stepped through a magic mirror, I have never seen her since." said Michael as he backed Morrigan into a corner. He could hear his son's frightened crying. Michael's heart ached with every sob that came from Bryce.

"You don't know what you're talking about! We have created good life for us here, please don't destroy it because of one bout of madness!" said Morrigan, now pleading.

"The only madness would be living in a lie!" Michael said harshly. Letting out a roar, half rage and half sorrow, Michael thrust the dagger into Morrigan's chest, driving it down to the hilt. Michael could feel the blade puncture Morrigan's heart as it's beating vibrated the blade.

Michael heard Bryce scream as his mother slid down the wall with shock in her eyes. The little boy ran to his mother to embrace her, Michael looked on in horror.

"Mommy wake up!" said Bryce pleadingly to Morrigan's limp body.

"I'm sorry." said Michael before everything went white.

Michael suddenly woke up. He was laying on his back on what felt like grass, his vision was blurry, but he could see it was day out. Sitting up, Michael's entire body felt stiff, drained. Michael rubbed his eyes with his gloved hand until his vision cleared. He could see he was dressed in the same Grey Warden armor he had seen in the hallway of the illusionary Castle Highever.

Michael looked around, seeing he was in a forest, and he saw skeletons and rotting corpses all around him.

He also heard something moan in pain behind him.

Getting to his feet as fast as his stiff body allowed him to. Michael found the source of the moan. It was a woman, practically naked, horned, and with purple flames for hair. A demon of desire!

She looked to Michael, and spoke in Morrigan's voice. "Why? I gave you everything you wanted, you were happy! Why throw it all away?"

"I threw nothing away, demon, all you gave me was a lie!." said Michael, his voice dripping with contempt. Michael saw his longsword laying near his feet. He picked it up, and then charged the demon with all his remaining strength.

"No!" said the Demon as Michael ran her through, the momentum of Michael's charge carrying them both several feet until Michaels sword embedded into a tree.

Collapsing from exhaustion, Michael fell to his knees, looking up at the now impaled demon.

"Ungrateful!" said the Demon as it began to dissipate. "I allowed you to love and be loved in returned, the things you wanted most, and you kill me in return! You will never have anything but your duty to the Wardens!"

"Duty is enough for me, now shut up and die!." said Michael.

The demon let a final, outraged wail before disappearing. Michael sat back, leaving his sword in the tree. He didn't feel strong enough to stand, let alone try to recover his blade.

Surrounded by the corpses of the desire demon's victims. Michael pulled out the ring Morrigan had given him years ago from a fine chain that hung around Michael's neck.

Morrigan said love was a weakness, and after what he just went through, Michael could almost agree. The ring represented everything that Michael wanted but could not have, and the demon had used that against him in an attempt to add him to her victims. Michael considered, not for the first time, ripping the ring of its chain and throwing to the ground.

But like every other time Michael thought about disposing of Morrigan's ring, he remembered why he kept it in the first place. While the ring symbolized Michael's desires, it was also a symbol of Michael's love, both for Morrigan and for their child, who he had never met. The family life the demon gave him may not have been real, but Michael's love very much was.

Once he felt that he had rested enough, Michael replaced the ring in it's spot under his breastplate before getting up. Bracing his foot against the tree, he pulled his sword out, almost falling flat on his rear when the tree released the blade.

"I hate demons." said Michael as he sheathed his weapon, leaving the area to continue his journey.

The End.


End file.
